


Haze

by Idunn



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-10-19 11:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20656613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idunn/pseuds/Idunn
Summary: Kamar-Taj is not Hogwarts and you're not a witch, but don't worry, The Supreme Sorcerer us here to help you, and guide you and teach you... All the things your little heart could want.





	1. Chapter One: Haze

**Author's Note:**

> A little thing that I wrote because I'm rather enamoured with Benedict Cumberbatch this week... My first fic of 2019, I'm so excited!

\- Oooh, this is not Hogwarts- you said, eyes full of wonder. Kamar-Taj is exactly (and at the same time, not at all) like you pictured it: a place old, but full of life, of sun, and Magic.  
Of course, Magic with a capital M. Mister Wong had come to you, at your work, saying that the cat-like ring your grandma left you was a Relic (and always, always a capital letter with this thing of Magic). You were, not afraid but convinced... Of Mister Wong ability of taking care of your beloved possession, but the wretched thing didn't want to leave your finger! So, here you are, waiting to see The Supreme Sorcerer, someone who's supposedly capable of lifting the bond you have with the ring... That it wasn't dangerous, not at all, not sir, but ... They were a little bit afraid, isn't it? Wong's eyes looked worried, a little bit. And your hand stung, but not like in pain; it was kind of a hot-cold sensation that suffuses your body in soft waves, like awareness of all the magic stuff and power that you could see in this place.  
A really old man offered you a cup of tea. It was cool and refreshing, with a lemony aftertaste. You are at a really nice library, sitting at a table (Please, no drinks close to the books! Said Wong) and playing a game on your phone. Maybe you should be afraid, but this place... It feels like you... Not belong, but...  
Like you could be yourself here. Like you're not the oddest thing out there.  
Since a little incident, you always try to be careful, real careful. Maybe as that time you said with a little too much glee in your voice: "I hope you have to stay home!" To that co-worker who's bragging about being invited at the Best Party Ever and learning that that day they got the flu and couldn't leave the house for three whole days; or the time you wished and wished and wished your best friend got separated of his cheating husband and him getting himself arrested in shoplifting charges. Weird things happened when you wanted them bad enough, so you learned to not to want too much because the cost... The cost of getting yourself all of your wants maybe could be too much...  
And you weren't a witch of course! Is all wishful thinking! There's is not something like magic, of witches or sorcerers... No way.  
Everything is too silent, suddenly. A tall man (a brunet, grey eyes, red cape!?) Is watching you.  
\- Miss? I'm Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme and I can help you- he said, with the confidence of someone who knows he's the best thing since sliced bread. How annoying.  
\- How should I call you, Mr. Strange? Is Strange your surname? How odd! - you giggled, seeing him clench his jaw and making a fist. Not a fan of jokes, it seems. He's too strung up.  
\- Miss, the thing... In your hand is a valuable Relic, I'm sure Wong has said, so, if you could give it to us for safekeeping, I'm sure you want to go back home, so...lets us begin - he sat down in a chair that wasn't there a moment ago, close to you. You extend your arm, and he takes your hand between the two of his; he's cool to the touch but not terribly so. He's turning your left hand so the light catches reflects in the silver-like material of the ring, and then he tugs, firmly. The next thing you know, you're in the floor, at the other side of the room, and he's floating up, almost hovering over you. His red cape is fluttering, even when there isn't currents in the room. But that's Magic for you.  
\- It seems like the Ring of Bastet has chosen you as the next Blessed One, did you know?- his feet finally touch the ground, and he helps you up- I'll ask for someone to get you a room for the night. We need to talk, but first.... I need to investigate a little bit. So, I hope you enjoy this impromptu vacation, Miss.


	2. Chapter Two: Daze

Two days later, not a single thing could take the Relic out of her hand. Stephen huffed to himself, feeling frustrated. After years of being the Supreme Sorcerer, it takes a lot (or maybe just a little) to make him uneasy. He turned to Wong, cup of coffee in hand.  
-Maybe we could do something, to, to block her powers. Or make her forget the magic capabilities of the ring, so she couldn’t use it. Maybe, I could use the Eye to turn back time and return the Relic to their rest state, and contain it somewhat. Why... why are you smiling like that?-

Wong smirked, and then laughed at Strange´s obvious displeasure.  
-What I don’t get is, why are you so against having her here, and train her in the ways of sorcery. The Relic choosing her is a good sign she has tons of raw magic power to her disposal and we didn’t hear nothing before your dream about her and the Relic, so, she doesn’t know how to use it or is very skilled to conceal it. In any case, is our duty to asses and train her, at least, to control her power. So, no. She cant go back unless we’re certain she wont misuse her power. 

Strange turned to the patio, were she was watching the morning training. Her hands were turning this and that way, trying to follow the gestures of a basic portal spell. She was bundled in white robes, and her hands with the odd coloured nails (nail polish, of course) clashed with the otherwise perfect picture of a new day at Kamar-Taj. 

-I could assess her myself, Sorcerer Supreme. Just, say the word, and Ill take her out of your hands- said Wong, crashing his reverie. Stephen turned around brusquely, feeling annoyed with Wong, but could grasp exactly why.

-Look at her, Wong. Really look at her and see. She can’t be a sorcerer. Is obvious she doesn’t have the, the ... will to be a warrior.- He pointed at her in the patio, feeling irritated. Her body wasn’t the body of a warrior, of a sorcerer. It is too round, too full of things that are tender, and indulgent. It is the body of someone who enjoys too much of the world, and knows nothing of hard work and nights without sleep. 

And in that moment, it hits him: he’s jealous.

He can’t turn around because he knows Wong will see it in his eyes if he does, so he stares with single minded intensity to her, and her quick hands, gliding through the motions.

A beat of silence.

-OK, Ill... allow her to be assessed and trained in the basic... The basics! Just for you. But I don’t want her just... wandering around. And I will take some time to find a way to restrict the Relic powers. After all, not anyone could go with a Goddess Warrior relic in their hands.

Wong take that statement as his cue to leave. But paused at the door.

-That right there is were you are wrong, Stephen. She’s not «anyone». She’s one of ours, now.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
«Bastet is the Egyptian goddess of the home, domesticity, women's secrets, cats, fertility, and childbirth. She protected the home from evil spirits and disease, especially diseases associated with women and children. [...] Although she was greatly venerated, she was equally feared as two of her titles demonstrate: The Lady of Dread and The Lady of Slaughter. She is associated with both Mau, the divine cat who is an aspect of Ra, and with Mafdet, goddess of justice and the first feline deity in Egyptian history. Both Bastet and Sekhment took their early forms as feline defenders of the innocent, avengers of the wronged, from Mafdet.[...]Hathor is another goddess who underwent a dramatic change from bloodthirsty destroyer to gentle friend of humanity as she was originally the lioness deity Sekhmet whom Ra sent to earth to destroy humans for their sins. In Bastet's case, although she became more mild, she was no less dangerous to those who broke the law or abused others.»

Stephen chuckled to himself as he read the article about Bastet in Wikipedia. Sometimes, the easiest way was the way to go. But that was enough internet for today, he thought, feeling tired and with his hands cramped.

He tried to massage the wrists first, feeling a small relief as the blood flowed from tip to root. The cold of the mountain top wasn’t good for his kind of injury. The cold always make him feel every little pain worse. Specially in his hand. Sometimes, he thought to himself as he disrobes to go to bed and swallowed an Advil, modern medicine was the best, sorcerer or not.

In his dream, she wasn’t speaking to him, this time. She took his hands between hers, so heavenly warm, and kissed every digit, one by one, as he feels about to burst; he doesn’t know if he wants to cry, or kiss her, or push her away. 

The memory of his dream (her hands on his hair, his head on her lap) will burn in him for days.


	3. Chapter Three: Charmed

You wake up that morning, well into your second week at the temple. The cold of the stone floor seeps into your feet as you change into a pale set of robes; even if your not properly "training" is one of the tradition and you're supposed to fulfil your role at the best of your abilities. Today you were to train with Wong in the courtyard, but urgent matters at the Hong Kong Sanctum means that you're alone for a couple of hours. You decide to explore a little bit, even if you're supposed to read the three volumes of an ancient scroll about elemental magic. 

There's a lot of passages and rooms at Kamar-Taj. People of all over the world are at the temple, practising or meditating or simply taking care of things; you were supposed to have your turn at serving the mess tonight again.

From a door to your right, you hear the susurrus of fabric. Like something heavy and rich. A peek of red fabric was showing right at the door to the inner temple. Wait... You had seen that fabric before!

You walked slowly, trying not to spook it. They were undulating slowly, but when you started to get close, it started to tremble slightly, like something alive. Like a scared kitten. 

You walk and make this tsk tsk sound, and you could swear the thing is looking back at you. And if the cloak is here, their owner should be close too.

The cape seems very shy, but as you smile at it it flows at you, and it looks... Not so big and imposing as it was when Mr. Strange had it on. It touches you lightly, and then a whole side wraps around your wrist, tugging you to go inside. You resist, certain that Mr. Strange wouldn’t like that, but the cloak insists, guiding you trough several rooms, until reaching your final destination.

You were certain that that place wasn’t in Kamar-Taj. The sounds were muted because of the thick walls, but they sounded like traffic... And the light wasn’t as rich and bright as in the mountains.

That place looked like some kind of museum, or an exhibit of rare objects, at least. It was long ago the cloak had let go of your hand, but you didn’t need it. You are fascinated with all the things behind the glass, and the things in shelves, and other things that just look... odd. Like a metallic contraption near the vitraux. It looks like a very uncomfortable chair? You debate with yourself to give in and just touch it with a finger, when a shout stops you in your tracks.

The Supreme Sorcerer is pissed, his face saying it all. He advances over you, and you try to walk backwards in self defence, without remembering about the chair at your back.

It is painful, the pull of his magic. When you came to your senses, one minute later, you are wrapped in his left arm, cloak covering both of you, and with the right he’s keeping the chair that of course is not a chair but a big, scary thing... contained with his magic. The thing goes back at being harmless, and he takes your shoulders between his hands, a look that’s half rage and half fear.

-I asked just one thing, don’t wander! You don’t have any idea, any idea at all about how dangerous any of the things here could be!- he shouts, fingers digging painfully. 

-They took me here!- you cry, eyes filling with tears - I tough that... maybe they wanted to show me something, I don’t know! I didn’t know it was dangerous? I just was curious!-

-Who brought you here!? Who!?- he shakes you a little.

You look at his left shoulder, a tear spilling down your cheek. He at himself, at first not getting it, but...

-The cloak?

The thing detaches completely from Strange´s shoulders, and it looks small and brooding, if an article of clothing could do such thing.

Strange sighs, letting you go. You feel like you need to sit, and do so, right at the floor, that is the thing most assuredly less magic in this entire place... you think.

Strange bends down, face dour. He sits in front of you, legs crossed, not looking at you. 

-They get restless sometimes- he says, gently - I get caught out in my job, and when I cant be disturbed because of my job, I ask them to go play, sometimes is just like having a child. They found you in the temple, isn’t it? I wonder how they got to cross the door. They aren’t supposed to do that if they aren’t with me.-

Strange´s boots are nice, thick soles and dark. Maybe they are real leather. You look at the boots because you cant bear to look at him. Now you feel like a silly child. Following capes when you were supposed to be studying... You get that magic could be dangerous, you know it on your bones... But for one time life could be other than responsibilities and you were having fun.

And now Strange will surely kick you out. No more magic. No more relics. No more thinking you have a chance to be other than your silly, boring self.

Strange gets up. Dusts himself a little, and then he gives you a hand to get up. He feels warmer today.

-Sorry for scaring you - he says, as he makes a gesture for you to follow him, as he walks down a large corridor, and giving the cloak a look of disappointment as they follow you both. - I’ve seen what that thing could do, and is not pretty. Now - he tries to smile a bit - maybe I could show you something less dangerous? Let me teach you about the wonders of the New York Sanctum.


	4. Chapter Four: Charm

I look at her through the glass, without knowing how much time has passed. All I know it feels like forever. 

I watch her singing to herself in the courtyard, a book in her lap. She has the red robes on, marking how much time has passed and how her training is coming along. 

I’ve tried to watch; even got so close to have The Eye in my chest, open, but I stop myself at the last minute. I know, but I don’t want to know. There’s something that draws me to her, to her side. I want to, to see her, to know her really, not like the new acolyte or an ally or a protege. I want to know her, the real her. There’s this pain, in my heart. Like a void in the place my heart is supposed to be. I thought that after Christine, and after all that death and the world saving, there’s no need for me to be... Like this.

That I had found my true calling, my place in the universe.

The things I haven’t said are threatening to spill from my lips. I don’t know how to do this any more. 

The truth is, it is very difficult for me to see clearly who Stephen Strange is, and how much of what I want I will permit myself to have. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

\- I’ve finished her training at the best of my abilities, Strange. Now is your turn - said Wong, interrupting my meditation time. I feel myself frowning.  
\- Has she mastered the martial arts? I haven’t see her practice with...  
\- And she wont. I’m not her martial arts master. That should be you, Stephen - Wong sat heavily over a cushion next to me. - I'm not a warrior by nature, Strange. Not like you. Not like Mordo was. There's a reason the Ancient One gave me the responsibility of being the new librarian. I can train her, and I'll do it only, if you order me to. But I don't like it. It should be you.

I grind my teeth, feeling my jaw clench slightly. Why can't people do as they're told? What's the upside of being the Sorcerer Supreme?

\- And don't think for a minute I don't see how you're leaving aside your responsibilities. You don't like her? Have you seen something... Dangerous in her? If that's the reason, you need to tell me, Stephen. We need to know. We need to be prepared - said Wong, an undercurrent of anxiety to his words.  
\- Is not that she’s dangerous. I just... cant train her. I’m too busy. Ask one of the other masters to do it.  
\- Why does it bother you so much? The Ancient One never hesitated to get her hands on a trainee to help them be the best they could be.

I turn around, hoping Wong wont see me blush. I’m not successful.  
\- Oh - its all he says. He knows, now. I’m angered, betrayed by my own body. Wong starts to laugh, big and ugly guffaws; an undignified thing. 

I sigh, get up and turn around, calling as I leave - She's not more dangerous than an kitten, I assure you, Wong. And Ill to train her until she’s the best Kamar-Taj will ever see.-

His laugh follows me all the way down the corridor.-


	5. Chapter Five: Invocation

\- I’m not sure about this - You say, eyeing him with distrust. Mr. Strange is dressed in soft but sporty-looking clothes; his were blue, red for me. He has very muscular arms. You feel guilty and a little bit hot under your clothes, looking at him like that. After all, he’s taking time (again!) from his busy schedule to rain you. Wong has said that your relic could be potentially very dangerous, and that just a Master of The Occult Arts could control it in case it got dangerous. 

He said all that with a smirk in his face, and that’s when you know is a load of bullshit. 

His hands are bare, and you see from the corner of your eye how he tenses when he sees you look. You have touched his hands; usually a brief, clinical thing. The other times, Strange has gloves on. But now that hands are supposed to teach you how to fight; that hands will surely touch you in more places that your own hands. You and him will grapple with one another, his hands grabbing you and marking you with his strength, leaving bruises for days after the training...

STOP.

He’s looking at you funny.

Just stop.

\- I’m not a warrior - you say again, hoping to drive the point home, hoping he gets it. You’re not shaped like a warrior. You are not like him. You look more like a boulder; a big, shapeless thing.   
\- Ill make a warrior out of you - he says with confidence as he fiddles with his laces. - Is the fat thing? - He asks, a glimmer or worry in his eyes. Worried about you? Worried you are not who you’re supposed to be? Worried that you’ll be an embarrassment?  
\- Of course is «the fat thing»! - you feel angry all of sudden. You can defend yourself if you need it; you feel this in your bones. But what he wants of you, what the ring in your finger means, that’s not you at all.

He straightens to his full height and walks to were you are, shivering in the cold air of the morning; he’s really tall and you feel weird with him looking at you so close, looming over you. He grabs your hand, the one with the Relic on it.

\- The relics are a way for sorcerers to store magic, it could be said. After many years of people with magic of their own using them, they start to get... kind of a feeling for their users - he signals to the window closest to us, where a anxious-looking cloak was looking from the sidelines. - What i wanted to say is, the ring chose you. And it chose you for a reason. You can be a warrior too, if you want. You just have to try.

You deflate somehow, worry replacing the anger that filled you a few moments ago. But he stays there, your hand in his hand, smiling. You like him. You want to make him proud.

\- I will try, Doctor - you say, your head tall.  
\- That’s all I ask, then. So, are we going to stay all day like this, or are we going to train?- he says, dropping your hand. - This will be your first lesson in classical karate, and we will take it fro there, OK? No pressure. So, stand straight, feet apart, you need to be balanced... arms up, left arm... excellent.- he murmurs, as you assume the position and he circles you, making adjustments here and there. - Now, imagine that your strength is a river, and use your right hand, we’re trying for a tap with effect, let me show you...-

This class will be extenuating, you think, seeing this beautiful man so close. But for other reasons not exactly the ones it should.

You shiver, but not from cold, and do as you’re told.


	6. Chapter Six: Hex

-I cant keep up, Strange. Please...- she says, gasping and kneeling on the floor. There are a couple of tears in her clothing; she’s not good at punching but is getting better at dodging. She is an escape artist, like a true cat would be; but I need to imbue in her the will to stay and fight. 

-Come on, Ill give you a chance of finish this. If you can tap me - I palm my cheek - we will be having an early lunch. My treat - I say.

My hands sting from all the exercise; my body aches and I feel the blood thrumming through my veins. She stands up and I see she’s beautiful like this, all sweaty and dirty to hell and back. I’ve landed some blows - soft blows - and she’s favouring her left side. She needs training, and will be giving her a good one. 

She grins at me, and my stomach turns, a sensation of weakness and nausea and want rolling all in one. 

\- Don’t go on crying later, Strange... - she says, walking backwards for some reason. I see the focus in her eyes, and start to advance slowly. She didn’t land one punch in all the session, but my arms and a point in my hairline are scratched. I felt a twinge in my forearm, where I twisted too far trying to get at her. She’s a being of stamina; a long game kind of warrior. I’m more of a sucker-puncher.

We circle each other, alone but for the birds chirping in the trees. There’s a few private spots in Kamar-Taj ant this is one of them. My private garden - a legacy of the Ancient One - with a dozen of cacti, a few trees and a Zen garden. It seems she used this space to close herself to all external stimuli. I chose to share it with my new acolyte.

This is a risky move. I shouldn’t be alone with her. Too much temptation. Too much distraction.

I feel myself slipping. She has magicked some kind of ice or something under my feet, and when she pushes me with a burst of energy, I fall. I’m getting sloppy.

My head crashes rather painfully against the hard tiles. I hear her running to me. Time for a lesson.

-Stephen, are you OK? Stephen, please, please be OK! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!- she pleads, hands in my shoulders, fingers digging rather painfully. I wait for a beat, head lolling to one side, breathing shallowly.

I grab her from the neck of her robes and I cradle her neck to not hurt her, as I turn our positions, using my legs to immobilise her. Now she’s the one on the floor, looking at me in awe and barely disguised relief. It looks like she’s going to cry.

\- What, you got scared? - I say, laughing. She looks at me, her face so close that I can see a tear threading through her lashes. She lifts one hand to my face, and I grab her, effectively trapping her arm over her head. 

\- Don’t be a cheater, you’re not getting lunch out of me - I say, my voice trembling. She and I smell of earth, sweat and blood; a trickle of blood at the back of my head, a scratched knee for her. Her left hand grabs the front of my robes, lowering my face slowly to hers.

As we kiss, I know she gave me the chance to flee, if I wanted. 

But I want this. I want this so badly.

I feel her trembling under my legs, the heat of her body getting to me. I let her go just to have the chance to touch her properly, the softness of her hair a balm to my sore palms, her hands roaming in my back, her kisses slow and deep, a metal taste between our mouths. One of us is bleeding, but I don’t care. I want more. I’ve started to kiss her neck, a whine wrenched from her lips, when a pair of footsteps stop at the entry of the garden.

-I’m not looking - says a clearly amused Wong - but I had to tell you that you have an urgent call from the New Avengers headquarters that you need to take.- His footsteps start to recede, but then, a last comment before he goes - I see that you take your responsibilities as Master very seriously, Strange. Ill talk to both of you later.

Oh my god. Is this going to be a problem?

I look at her face, my anxiety getting the better of me. She grins at me, her eyes shining.

\- Maybe... lets have lunch and talk for a bit? - she says, as I get up and give her a hand. I feel embarrassed. I’m her master, I’m supposed to be this unflappable sorcerer and here I am, hot and panting after an student. 

She turns my face to hers and kisses me softly, once, before tugging my hand towards the temple.

-I’m hungry and you promised lunch. Can we get sandwiches? I’m starving!-  
\- As long as you understand I’m not paying... after all, I won - I say, crossing with her through the Nexus to the New York Sanctum.

I wont resist fate any more. I want this.

I want her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not good for fight scenes, working on my smut... Don't worry, things will get better!


End file.
